How long is the winter?
When your mind’s been tracing pictures
Of a face made of lines on a map of an underground train,
Some Christmas lights in your new room,
And Stranger, you know waking me up too soon.
From states away and then when I came to

I was in my old room back home.
I was in my old bed back home.
I was in my old bed back home,
I was in my old room with you.

Bad Batch

A weekday afternoon, a quarter after two
You’re looking for a bad batch.
Ripped apart your room,
Looking for a clue because you need an out.
An unread message on a phone,
Holding out all hope on a safe return.
Bound by every breath, trying to get one in

Strayed from the path
Laid bare death by exposure.
Kept well by a bag.
Stay below the threshold.
Kept dead falling away from me.

Strayed from the path, don’t you know better?
Strayed from the path. Finally found your bad batch.

Winter rolls up its sleeves so we’re fucked (by all means).
That’s the plan all along we are forgotten one by one.
Until we shaded and then replaced them.

We got caught in the frost, senseless gaze, cover dots.
Endless debts from stopping ages, it’s a game we all lost.
Until we shaded and then replaced them.

Bob Abate

We’re getting old again, it’s the third time this week
Better stick with me than go fuck around and never come back to this peace.
We’re getting late on life, this pace is slow but it shows by lack of failures, right?
We’re getting old again, today is made to be a success, I feel like it’s a good day.

I hope that I’ll stay open minded for all the things we said we fainted for too easily.
I hope that I’ll stay open minded.

I would gamble it all and put the flag on the right shed.
Win the day by its light then eyes wide open but am I trying?
I would cover our eyes as big as this sign, I’ll tell you what we said was:
We’ll keep the worst for the future, it’s time to leave it run, forget what we’ve just done.